‘What are you implying, Brother Eadulf?’ demanded the chief quickly.
‘Eadulf meant that it would be of benefit to know the reason why he visited your library. We may learn the answer by speaking to your librarian this afternoon.’ She rose determinedly from her chair. ‘As it is now well past the hour for the etar-shod, the midday meal, I suggest that we partake of refreshment before we set out with you, Cumscrad.’
‘I have no objection to that.’
The refectorium was deserted and so the meal was a frugal one with just the four of them being served cold meats and cheeses with cold water from the abbey fountain. As they rose to leave, Cumscrad lingered a moment.
‘I will see you at the gate shortly. I have one other small matter to speak to Abbot Iarnla about,’ he said.
‘We have some things to pick up from the guesthouse so we will meet in the courtyard in a little while.’
As they left, Fidelma caught sight of Gormán in the quadrangle. He was obviously waiting for them. She felt a tinge of guilt in case he had not eaten but he assured her that he had gone into the refectorium when the bell for the midday meal had sounded.
‘Ask Brother Echen to saddle our horses and be ready to join Cumscrad and his men. We may be away for a day or two.’
Gormán was surprised. ‘Are we going to Fhear Maighe, lady?’
‘We are.’
‘I thought there was something in the wind because the steward came hurrying into the courtyard some time ago. He looked angry. He seized Glassán, spoke swiftly to him. Glassán took a horse from the stable and rode rapidly away.’
Fidelma frowned. She had forgotten about Brother Lugna.
‘Did you notice which way Glassán went?’
Gormán shook his head. ‘Only that he rode through the abbey gates as quickly as I have ever seen a man move on a horse. Whether he turned east or west, I did not see.’
‘Well, no matter,’ replied Fidelma. ‘It may not be relevant. Get the horses ready.’
She and Eadulf went to the tech-oíged to pack a few things in case they were obliged to spend more time away than Fidelma expected. On their return to the quadrangle, they found Gormán and Brother Echen waiting in front of the stables with her white horse Aonbharr and Eadulf’s cob already saddled.
Fidelma took the opportunity to ask Brother Echen about what he had told Gormán. ‘You mentioned to Gormán the other day that your cousin told you that a building Glassán was working on in Laighin had fallen down and killed several people.’
‘I did so,’ the stableman replied.
‘I just wondered if you knew where that building was located?’
‘It was in the country of the Uí Dúnlainge,’ Brother Echen replied immediately. ‘In the south of the kingdom.’
‘Can you be more specific?’
Brother Echen thought for a moment and then shrugged. ‘Alas,’ he said after a moment or two, ‘all my cousin knew was that it was a chief who lived on the southern coast. Anyway, it was some ten years ago. Glassán was not held directly responsible; he was deemed to have neglected his contractual duty by not overseeing the work and then trying to blame others.’
Fidelma was about to ask another question when Cumscrad emerged from the refectorium with Abbot Iarnla. Brother Echen, with a muttered apology, hurried into the stables and returned with the chief’s horse and led it across to him.
‘Do you think that it is more than a coincidence that Brother Donnchad went to this library and that a copy of the book he was interested in was later stolen?’ asked Eadulf quietly as they mounted up
‘I do not believe in such coincidences, Eadulf,’ replied Fidelma. ‘But let us keep this between ourselves.’ She glanced at Gormán; the young warrior was pretending to be absorbed in adjusting his horse’s bridle. ‘We’ll explain later, Gormán.’
‘I notice that Cumscrad does not call his scriptor by the Latin title,’ Eadulf said.
‘The library of Fhear Maighe is still a secular one.’
While the religious had taken over many of the professions, there were still some secularists fulfilling the roles of poets, doctors, lawyers and other official functions, and many libraries remained unattached to the new abbeys.
‘That surprises me. I would have thought that Fhear Maighe was too remote to have a library, particularly one that is notpart of a religious institution. I thought that the members of the Faith now controlled all the intellectual pursuits.’
‘It would be a sorry day if everyone agreed on how we should think or what we should do,’ responded Fidelma. ‘There would not be much individuality left in the world. But there is a curious pattern emerging here. Brother Donnchad wanted to see a copy of Celsus’s work. Brother Donnán tells us that he saw a response to that work by Origenes but that work has been sent to Ard Mór abbey. Cumscrad says the original of Celsus’s work is in Fhear Maighe, but that a copy on its way to Ard Mór has been stolen.’
‘Isn’t Ard Mór in the territory of the Uí Liatháin?’
‘It is in the territory of the Déisi but stands on the opposite side of the river to Uí Liatháin territory — the same Great River that flows from here.’
‘I wonder how Brother Donnchad heard or knew that Celsus’s book was at Fhear Maighe,’ mused Eadulf. ‘What about the other book — the poems of Dallán Forgaill?’
‘It is of no consequence. The thieves were after the work by Celsus, I am sure. Dallán’s poems are no danger to the Faith.’
At that moment Cumscrad came trotting towards them on his black mare.
‘Ride alongside me, Fidelma. My warriors are waiting outside the abbey to escort us.’
Indeed, just outside, a group of half a dozen warriors were sitting on a grassy knoll indulging in a game of chance which involved throwing dísle, or dice. They scrambled to their feet when they saw their chief and hurriedly set about collecting their horses, which were tethered nearby. Within moments two of them had placed themselves at the head while the others fell in behind and the entire party was on the road, riding due west.
The afternoon’s ride passed pleasantly enough and the groupkept a fairly good pace leaving Lios Mór on the roadway that ran along the south bank of The Great River. Fidelma rode with Cumscrad, with Eadulf and Gormán behind. The pace was comfortable even for Eadulf. He enjoyed the ride in the mild afternoon sunshine. The hills to the south of them looked peaceful, large and rounded with thick woods carpeting them. There were plenty of rivulets and streams that tumbled and gushed down these hills to empty into The Great River, An Abhainn Mhór. There was no shortage of places to water the horses.
‘I can see why you call it simply The Great River,’ Eadulf observed, nodding towards the flowing water. ‘It’s large enough. Though in truth I have seen broader rivers in my travels.’
Gormán grinned, shaking his head, and replied, ‘It is not named because of its width, Brother Eadulf.’
‘Then it must be its length, for I understand it rises in the mountains a far distance to the west and bends southwards, flowing down to the sea.’
‘Again, not so, my friend,’ the warrior replied. ‘It is called The Great River as a euphemism. It is not its real name.’ Eadulf gave him a questioning glance and Gormán continued: ‘In the old days, before the coming of the new Faith, the river was called the Nemh, which meant immeasurable, sacred and heavenly. In that lies its greatness.’
Eadulf recognised the word, which also applied to a saintly person. ‘A sacred river?’
‘Many of the rivers in this land are named after the old gods or goddesses. They are dedicated to sacred deities.’